


come home with me

by godofmorons



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Breakfast in Bed, F/F, No Spoilers, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 17:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godofmorons/pseuds/godofmorons
Summary: Dorothea laughs and thinks that maybe, just maybe, this was the happy ending she has always dreamed of.





	come home with me

**Author's Note:**

> [♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KpNEPwACYK4)   
_When you look at me, what do you see?_   
_Someone stronger than me, somebody who survives._
> 
> thank you [ashelia__](https://twitter.com/ashelia__) for making sure this wasn't potato quality.

Dorothea opens her eyes to morning light and birds chirping outside the window; she blinks blearily, before burrowing back under the covers, promising herself just five more minutes. Horsebow Moon means Galatea is starting to grow colder and colder by the day, which also means that it is becoming more and more difficult for Dorothea to leave the warmth of bed every morning.

The smell of cooking food wafting from downstairs eventually convinces her to crawl out of bed, her feet finding her slippers before she pads across the room and out into the hallway.

The Galatea manor is a quiet, dim place; Ingrid had once explained to her that most houses in Faerghus had smaller and fewer windows in order to conserve heat. It was a ridiculous notion, if you asked Dorothea-- the manor was cold in the winter regardless of how many windows there were, or how big they had been built.

She reaches the entrance hall and takes a deep breath of what smells like bacon and eggs. This has become an annual tradition for the two of them; Ingrid was usually up before dawn every morning, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for her to make breakfast like this. No, what made this particular morning special was the fact that Ingrid was trying to surprise Dorothea with breakfast in bed, just like she has tried to do every year on Dorothea's birthday. And every year, Dorothea wakes up just in time to ruin the surprise for herself. As they say, it's the thought that counts!

Dorothea hops down the steps two at a time, stopping to peer ever so carefully into the kitchen from the open doorway.

The kitchen is in a state of disarray, with bowls and pans and measuring cups all scattered across the counters. From the door, Dorothea can see a teapot steaming next to the stove-- that must be the apple blend Dorothea likes so much, brewed using an early harvest of Galatea apples. There's a stack of Albinean berry pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon... All of it together would be entirely too much for the birthday girl to eat all by herself, but thankfully for her, she has Ingrid to eat whatever she can't finish.

Speaking of Ingrid, she is oh so carefully arranging the food on plates, and then the plates on a tray. She's concentrating so hard on her task, she hasn't even noticed Dorothea watching her work; it's honestly kind of adorable.

The songstress smiles, before turning on her heel, careful not to make a sound as she slips back up the stairs. She doesn't close the bedroom door behind her all the way, instead leaving it ever so slightly ajar. She arranges herself artfully on the bed, making sure her hair fans out around her face just so.

And then she waits.

She lays like this for only a short while, thinking of the act she'll put on once Ingrid opens the door; it's the same act she's been repeating these last five years, and she's _positive_ that Ingrid has figured out that it's an act by now, but still! It's the _principle_ of it all. If Ingrid was trying to surprise her, then surprised she would be!

As if on cue, she hears the soft thump of Ingrid kicking the door open, the smell of tea and bacon filling the room. Dorothea begins to stir awake again, her eyes fluttering open slowly. She sits up, yawning as she stretches her arms over her head, meeting Ingrid's eyes with a smile. "Good morning, my love." Her gaze falls on the tray of food Ingrid's carrying in her hands, and Dorothea's eyes go wide before her smile brightens. "Oh my, for me?"

Ingrid beams; there's a smudge of flour on her cheek, and Dorothea is so overwhelmed with affection she feels like she could cry. "Of course! Happy birthday, Dorothea."

Dorothea slips back out of bed, leaning carefully over the tray to press a kiss to Ingrid's lips. "Thank you." She's smiling so hard her cheeks are starting to hurt; she reaches out to boop Ingrid on the nose. "Come, let's eat before all this delicious food starts to grow cold."

Their breakfast is carefully arranged across the tray, nightstand, and the table that Ingrid uses as a makeshift desk. Dorothea eats most of the berry pancakes and nibbles on the eggs, sipping her tea between bites; Ingrid drinks her chamomile brew, only glancing down once or twice before Dorothea finally tells her she can have the rest of her breakfast. They talk about their plans for the rest of the day: how Dorothea wants to go apple picking, and Ingrid jokes about using her pegasus to get the apples from the tops of the trees.

Dorothea laughs and thinks that maybe, just maybe, this was the happy ending she has always dreamed of.

(And she thinks to herself that home might be more than just a place.)

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday miss dorothea arnault!!! i'm love you.


End file.
